


If It's Worth Saving Me

by Phoenix94



Series: The Phoenix Chronicles [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Closeted Character, Depression, Drama & Romance, F/M, Human Trafficking, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Israeli character(s), Kidnapping, LGBTQ Female Character of Color, M/M, POV Alternating, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Racism, Sexual Slavery, Suicide Attempt, Therapy, Trans Female Character, Unrequited Crush, What's the plot?, canon lgbtq characters, childhood neglect, hard of hearing character, i'm the writer i should know this, it needs a plot, oh crap what is it????, well sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-08-22 15:21:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16600502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix94/pseuds/Phoenix94
Summary: Fighting to stay alive sucks. But it's a million times harder when you're fighting yourself to stay alive. No one knows that more than depressed, closet-case Jake Shanahan. He's so close to giving up, if only just to make the pain stop. He has his reasons to quit: He's poor; He can't find a better-paying, more stable job; His landlord is basically a slumlord; He has no one. Until a gravelly-voiced man by the name of Ransom Carter takes him in as his roommate. Sure, Jake didn't plan on moving in with a fidgety trafficking survivor, but he didn't plan on seeing the sun come up either. Another thing he didn't plan for was working under his unrequited high school crush. Or not being able to look at the guy he's scheduled with without losing his train of thought.





	1. Jake

My teeth chatter as I lean my forearms against the concrete guardrail of the bridge. The icy December wind slices through my clothes like a knife. The numbness encasing me has nothing to do with the single digit wind chill; it’s from trying to breathe around the lead weight in my chest. Trying to keep myself breathing has me exhausted. And I’m so tired of fighting against this weight. Of fighting to exist. I’m done fighting. Maybe this is cowardly, but I never claimed to be brave anyway.

I stare down at the black wind-whipped waves of the Wabash River as I try to work up the courage to climb over the rail and into the depths. To put myself out of my misery. Some distant part of me wants to stay. To put up a stronger fight. The other part of me is beyond done and exhausted. I could end everything right now. The pain, the shame, the soul-crushing numbness, all of it. All I have to do is climb on the rail and shove off. Easy.

Except…maybe it’s not. Maybe I’m wrong.

Being torn between life and death does nothing to help the ache in my chest.

If I thought I had a chance, staying would be a no-brainer. But the odds have never been in my favor. Why should that change now?

“Hey. You okay?” a gravelly male voice calls behind me, startling me. I’ve been so lost in my own head I didn’t hear the footsteps. He sounds like he’s on the opposite side of the bridge, though with the wind it’s hard to tell.

“Why does it matter?” I scrub a hand across my face. I don’t want some stranger knowing I’ve been crying.

“Because it’s freezing out here and people don’t usually stand on the bridge when it’s snowing. I don’t think.”

The sound of approaching footsteps makes me stiffen. I don’t know this guy. He could be a serial killer. Or a mugger.

“Y’want the truth? I have no heat. I'm barely making enough money to keep the lights and water turned on. My floor tries to eat my ankles. The roof is falling through. The walls are fuzzy. And I can’t afford to move. I can’t get on anywhere outside of the doggy daycare where I work. And I haven’t had anything to eat for three days. So, I'm a little depressed.” I don’t turn to look at him. Who he is and what he looks like doesn’t matter.

“You’re gonna freeze to death.”

“Yeah, so? Nobody cares.”

“I care. I’ve got an extra bedroom. Heat. And food. I don’t usually try to bring strangers home.”

“Lemme guess. Y’want me to sleep with you in return. Fine. Whatever.”

“No. I, uh, I spent fourteen years being trafficked. My name’s Ransom, by the way.”

“Jake. I'm an idiot.”

“No. Let’s go, huh? Get warm.”

Agreeing reluctantly, I turn around. He’s cute. Short, soft-looking curly black hair. Jade green eyes. Olive skin. Lips that look perfect for kissing. We’re about the same height, around six-foot. He’s dressed in all black, making him hard to see in the dark.

“Please tell me you’re not racist,” he mumbles.

“Why’re you wearing black after dark? Do you want someone to run over you?”

“Black shows off my skin less.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Where do you live at anyway?”

“Out past Good Sam’s. Past the graveyard.”

“Ah. So, um, why’d you think I wanted sex out of this?”

“If you do, it’s fine.”

“I don’t. I don’t like hookups. You are kinda cute, but, no.”

“That’s the only way people have offered to help. I can’t afford to help much on rent, so sex is what they expect. It’s why I still live where I do.” I follow him down Second Street, leaving the river and bridge behind. My legs have gone numb from cold.

“They want you to whore yourself out to them. That’s disturbing. I hate people.” He leads me down Main Street. He walks faster than I do, which is easier with his long legs.

“I'm desperate enough now to do it. Which is sad.”

“Does your family know you’re living like this?”

“No. I, um, I’ve been alone for a while. There was a car wreck. I was seventeen. I was home with the flu. My dad fell asleep driving and hit a semi head-on. We think. They died at the scene.”

“I'm sorry.” He keeps going, leading me past what used to be a movie theater before it became a church, which then became a laser tag place, which is now a pizza sports bar.

“Yeah. So, I didn’t have a choice but to try to stay alive. I didn’t have anyone who could take me in and too much pride to ask.” I sigh with relief when he finally stops at some single-story apartments. They’re nice. Much nicer than the house I'm renting.

“Turned into a Jake-sicle yet?” His teeth gleam white in the dark as he grins at me. He takes me to the end apartment on the left.

“Almost.” I’d almost forgotten what having heat felt like.

He has a nice apartment. The living room is brightly lit by a plain floor lamp. There’s no fuzzy mold on the beige walls. The honey laminate floor isn’t trying to eat my feet. It’s honestly pretty plain. It doesn’t leave me any clues as to who he is, outside of the GED framed on the wall.

“I'm proud of that bad boy,” he explains, smiling sheepishly.

“Nothin’ wrong with that. Um, thank you for doing this. I owe you.” I take my battered tennis shoes off and put them with his Converse by the door.

“No, you don’t. I ate at work, but I can fix you something to eat.”

“Is it okay if I cook? No offense. I just—You’ve already been so nice to me.”

“Go ahead. None taken, Jake.” He’s still smiling as he leads me into the small kitchen.

“Where do you work?”

“Daily Grind. It’s a coffee shop by the university. I'm a barista.”

“D’you like it? D’you have any ramen noodles?” I like ramen. It’s cheap, for one thing. I guess it shows how poor I am when I can’t even afford ramen noodles.

“Usually. The pay isn’t bad. Some of the people suck. Mostly, I have trouble with the customers. They take one look at me and write me off as a terrorist. I can get them out for you.” He opens one of the upper cabinets and pulls out several packets of noodles. “Have as many as you want.”

“So, people are pretty racist. Thank you. D’you have any cheese?”

“Yeah. The fact I'm gay doesn’t help much.” He sets a two-pound bag of shredded cheddar cheese on the counter for me.

“Which is worse?”

“The racism. Telling people I'm not an immigrant doesn’t help; I was adopted when I was a baby. America is the only home I’ve ever known. And these bigots look at me like I'm nothing because I wasn’t born here. Like I don’t deserve to be here. Like I’m less of a citizen because of the adoption.”

“I'm sorry.” I dump two packets of noodles and water in a bowl and put it in the microwave.

“Yeah, me too. It actually made me really nervous to approach you. I didn’t know if you’d attack me or not.”

“People have done that? You’re a nice guy. I mean, you seem to be.” I glance at him shyly before turning my attention back to the microwave. The kitchen smells like noodles now.

“You’re forgetting something. I spent fourteen years being sold to other men. I didn’t make them happy enough or my ‘owner’ was having a bad day, guess what? I got the crap knocked out of me.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, he stares uncomfortably at the floor.

“That’s horrible.” I burn my hands on the bowl because I'm too hungry and impatient to wait for it to cool.

“That’s why I didn’t want you repaying me with sex. It felt too similar to what I went through. I should be making sure you’re okay, not giving you my life story.”

“I’ll be fine.” I add a handful of cheese to my drained noodles. I don’t want to find out if Ransom is as good at reading people as I suspect.

“I don’t mind listening. I thought you were planning on jumping.”

“I was thinking about it.” I toy absently with my fork, dragging it around in the cheesy mess.

“I kinda wanna be sure you’re gonna be alive in the morning.”

“It’s not like anyone’s gonna miss me. I don’t have anyone to miss me. That sounded a lot less depressing in my head.”

“Jake.”

“I haven’t had a reason to stay for a while. And it just built up enough tonight that I almost did something about it. Except I'm too much of a coward.” I feel myself starting to break apart again and I hate it more than I’ve ever hated anything. Not only am I coward, I'm a weak coward.

“You’re not a coward. You chose not to. That’s brave. You chose to let me try saving you.”

“And maybe I'm not worth saving.”

“But maybe you are. I didn’t think I was.”  
  
I smile hesitantly when Ransom lies down next to me on my borrowed bed. I don’t remember the last time I laid somewhere so comfortable.

 _I asked him to stay with me. I did this. If he wants anything, I have to give it. I owe him,_ I remind myself.

“You okay?” he asks quietly in the dark.

“Not really.” I'm still freezing. And my depression is still a physical ache in my chest.

“What would help?”

“Are you okay doing this? I don’t wanna screw you up. I'm already screwed up. And broken. And you’ve been super nice about all this.”

“I'm a little on edge, but you’re not doing anything to make me think you’ll attack me. Jake, has something happened?” The concern in his low voice surprises me. I'm not someone people worry about.

“Yeah. Um, my parents weren’t good people. They didn’t want me. Or love me.”

“They abused you?”

“Neglect. I don’t remember the last time someone hugged me. Or cared if I ate. I used to take myself to the doctor because they couldn’t be bothered. Who cared if I had bronchitis and was coughing so badly I threw up or peed my pants?”

“I can hug you if you want. I won’t do anything. I promise.”

“You’re very touchy-feely, aren’t you?”

“Not really. Just wanna help.”

“They made it pretty clear I was in the way. D-does your family know what happened? Or were they ones who did that?”

“No, they don’t know. Haven’t tried to contact them. I was kidnapped.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend who’s gonna get mad about this, do you?”

“No boyfriend. No friends with benefits either. Is this messing with you?”

“A little.” I shift uncomfortably on the soft futon.

“I can move.”

“No. You’re warm.” I flinch at the unexpected rumble of his laughter. “I feel like I'm such a waste of space.”

“You’re not. I promise.”

He stays up all night with me. He doesn’t act mad or anything about it which surprises me. He seems happy to see I'm still alive when the sun comes up.

“So, I should probably go home,” I mumble. Back to my fuzzy walls.

“Actually, I’ve been thinking about getting a roommate. Sounds like you need a better place to stay.”

“I can’t afford it. I mean, I can clean and cook.”

“That would work. If you want to.”

“I want out of that house. The landlord won’t fix it. He keeps raising my rent, so I’ll probably be on the street if I don’t do this. I can’t afford to get it fixed. Not that he’d approve it if I could.”

“I’ll help you pack if you want. You don’t need to be on the streets.”

“You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack. I have work, but I can help you after I get done. You’re welcome to hang out there.”

“Nah, that’s okay. Um, I don’t really feel like getting out of bed.”

“Alright. You got a phone? I’ll give you my number and you can text me if you want.”

He doesn’t seem happy about leaving me alone, which is surprising. A lot about him surprises me, though.


	2. Ransom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was a lot longer originally, but I revamped it because apparently this half of the thing is going to be entirely Jake's POV. There are mentions of rape in this chapter, btw. Nothing graphic, but it's still there. Just a heads-up. I don't know what I'm doing with this, not that it matters because my boys would just take over anyway if I did know where it was going. I'm really excited to be back to writing on here. I hope you guys like it :)  
> EDIT: Yeah, this is the third time I've written this chapter. And it's in Ransom's POV like the original was. This thing is hurting my head. There's still the rape mention btw.

I hate leaving Jake. I don’t know if he’ll still be alive when I get home. And that scares me.

The icy wind nearly blows me over. Its ferocity brings tears to my eyes. My thick coat, gloves, earmuffs, and hat don’t matter right now. My car had better start because I am _not_ walking in this.

I clamber into the battered black Blazer I named Baby. She might be an absolute piece of crap, but she’s my piece of crap. I flip the toggle switch for the fuel pump—The last owners had to put the switch in because the car was eating pumps—before trying the key in the ignition. The engine grinds angrily in response.

“Come on. Come on, Baby. Work with me here,” I plead through chattering teeth.

My pleas fall on deaf ears. Well, deaf engine. I have to stop otherwise the battery will go dead and I’ll be completely screwed.

I flip the car off irritably before starting for work. The crooked front bumper makes it look like the crappy thing is smirking evilly at me.  
  
By the time I get to the warm coffee shop, my legs are numb from cold. Snow has seeped into my Converse, making my feet wet and cold. My day just started, but I'm already miserable.

I love the coffee shop. I love the smell of the coffee brewing. The teas don’t smell half-bad either. I love the mismatched tables and chairs. The local art for sale on the walls. The pop music playing softly in the background.

We don’t do food, just coffee and tea and smoothies, which are a summer-only thing. We have a limit of ten pumps of syrup in the drinks.

Matt grins at me when I walk in. Amusement dances in his whiskey-colored eyes when he takes in how cold I am. My fingers are too numb to do the ties on my apron.

“Help me?” I ask quietly.

I don’t like asking him to do this.

“You look like crap,” he informs me, doing the ties for me.

“I feel it. Are we the only ones?” I tuck my blue Star of David necklace inside my shirt before turning to face him. I'm not ashamed; I just don’t want to get beat up.

“Yeah, it’s just us. So, why do you look like death?” He flips the sign in the window to ‘Open.’

“I kept a guy from killing himself and stayed up with him.” I make my way behind the counter.

“Is he cute? Boyfriend material?”

“Pretty sure he’s not into guys. You’re straight. Why does it matter?”

“It matters if you’re not happy. Did it ever cross your mind I might not be?”

I’ve had a thing for him since my first week here. Since he defended me from a customer who launched into a homophobic tirade over my pride bracelet. That’s how I came out to my coworkers. Now that I'm hearing I might possibly have chance, I can barely hear him over the excited pounding of my heartbeat in my ears.

“No. You always talk about girls.” I drum my fingers against the counter as I wait for the morning rush.

“Bi. I figured if I brought up guys, it’d be awkward. Or something. When I came out, my family told me it didn’t exist. That I was a poser. A fake.”

“You don’t have to worry about that with me.” I smile warmly as I lay my hand gently on his shoulder.

I like it when it’s just the two of us. I mean, I like the others too, but Matt’s my favorite.

We go from empty to slammed in the space of ten minutes. It’s almost like the customers appeared out of nowhere. I love when it’s busy. I love the rush. But not when it’s just the two of us. It just puts us further behind when he comes to help me. And I can’t help him because I end up too frazzled and he has to fix the register.

Once the morning rush is over, we have about two hours to get ready for the lunch rush. It’s gonna be a long day.  
  
Matt hesitates to leave at the end of our shift.

“What’s up?” I ask warily.

“Are you busy tonight?”

“I need to make sure my roommate’s okay, but that’s all. Why?” I want to think he’s asking me out. But I don’t want to get my hopes up.

“Not a date. Friend with benefits.”

“I don’t want just sex, Matt.” And, just like that, I'm put out with him.

“I’ve heard I'm pretty good.” He grins cheekily. “You’d be the only guy.”

“Matt, I have a lot going on right now. So, getting laid is pretty much the last thing on my mind right now. Even if I didn’t, I'm not really into just sleeping with someone.”

“You’d be getting what you want. I thought you’d be happy.” He looks as angry as I feel.

“This isn’t what I want! I wanted a relationship. You know what? Forget it.” Shoving my gloved hands into my jean pockets, I turn and walk away.

 _Effis. Echad. Sh’time. Shelosh. Arba. Hamesh. Sesh. Sheva. Sh’mone. Tesha. Esil._ Counting from zero to ten, which is as far as I can currently count, in Hebrew usually helps me calm down quicker than in English. I'm not as familiar with the language, so it takes more work for me to remember the words, which takes my concentration off my anger.  
  
By the time I get home, I'm calmer. I need to be for Jake’s sake.

Jake has ventured out of his room. The blue blanket from the futon is wrapped around his starved body, making him look like a human burrito. He flinches when I close the front door.

“Hi. You okay? I didn’t mean to scare you,” I say quietly.

“No.” Jake looks at me with those shattered blue eyes and all I want to do is hug him. I know he doesn’t like hugs, so I won’t.

“Did you eat anything?” I try to keep my tone light. I don’t want him to think I'm angry with him.

“No. I wasn’t hungry. Have I done something wrong? You look mad.” Fear creeps into his soft voice.

“I got into it with a friend at work. I won’t hurt you. Do you want something to eat?”

“Oh. You’re not supposed to take care of me.”

“Jake, I'm not fighting with you too. I'm trying to be a decent human being. You don’t look or act like you feel like cooking. So, let me. I'm not _that_ bad of a cook.”

I should be surprised when he follows me to the kitchen, but I'm not. When I got out, I followed Julia, the closest thing to a mom I remember having, everywhere. I was like her second shadow.

Julia didn’t have to take me in. She didn’t have to teach me everything from reading and writing to table manners. She didn’t have to encourage me to take my GED or to learn more about where I'm from and my heritage and culture. Or continue caring when I came out. She didn’t have to buy Baby for me; she’s why I can’t bring myself to get rid of the cold-hating thing. She doesn’t have to call me every weekend. Or invite me to holidays. She could’ve refused.

I still remember when they called her. I was lying in the hospital bed, sick from the pain meds and anxiety, while the cops tried to find someplace I could go after I left the hospital. There weren’t any shelters that would take me in the state; they only accepted women. I was adamant I didn’t want my family to know. Because I was eighteen, that was my choice. I wasn’t really eligible for foster care. Not at my age. Somehow—My memory gets fuzzy from the medicine here—they got ahold of Julia and her home became my ‘as long as I need it’ home.

Lost in my memories, it scares the crap out of me when Jake coughs.

“Sorry! I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he murmurs quickly.

“Don’t worry about it. I was lost in my own head. Do you like pizza?”

“Who doesn’t? D’you and your friend fight a lot?”

“Strange people. No, this is the first time we’ve fought. He, um, he wanted me to sleep with him. Friends with benefits. Not really my thing. Just sex feels too much like what I used to be. Like I'm being used. Taken advantage of. Like sex is all I'm good for. And he thought I’d be happy because I like him and I’d ‘be getting what I wanted.’ I wanted a relationship. Not that.” Anger surges back to the surface, so I go back to mentally counting from zero to ten in Hebrew. Jake doesn’t need to deal with my anger any more than I want him to.

“Can I be honest?”

“Always.” I set the frozen cheese pizza on the table. I don’t want to scare him with a veggie meat one.

“I think you’re right. I mean, I think he’s trying to use you.”

“Are you feeling any better? I thought he was better than this.” I think the disappointment might be what’s making me so angry more than Matt’s actual behavior.

“No, but I haven’t tried to jump off any bridges, so I guess that’s good.”

“I’ll stay with you tonight if you need me to.” I slide the pizza into the oven and set the timer.

“Please? I promise I'm not always this needy. Can we wait to get the stuff from the house?”

“No problem.”

I don’t miss the way he swaddles himself in the blanket when we sit on the couch. It makes him feel safe, I think. By the time he gets done, only his head sticks out.

“I really thought you’d take me up on the offers. I mean, you’re not gonna ruin my first time or anything. Someone else already did that,” he confesses.

“You okay? I’ll listen if you need to talk.”

“There was this party. I don’t remember why I went. I shouldn’t have been there; it was mostly popular kids. I wasn’t popular. I was drunk. Really drunk. Th-this girl was there. Blonde. I don’t remember how it happened—Like I said, I was really drunk—but we wound up in one of the bedrooms. And she was taking my clothes off. I kept telling her no. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want this. I don’t know what I _had_ wanted. I couldn’t fight back or push her away. If I did, she’d tell everyone I tried to rape her. Who would they believe? The delicate little girl or the big scary man? That’s the extent of my experience.”

“She raped you. Did you tell anyone?”

“I know. You’re the first person to not blame me. To not tell me I should be happy she wanted me.”

“That’s so messed up. There’s no way something like that should make you happy.”

In the back of my mind, I had always thought I was the only guy to suffer like that. The only one to be assaulted. I know how vain and selfish it was. Hearing Jake talk about his assault, I wish I had been the only one.


	3. Jake

By the time I finally drag myself out of bed, Ransom has already left for work. The depression is still a very real, physical thing. It’s this cold ache in my bones that has nothing to do with the cold. It’s this icy weight like frozen lead in my lungs that keeps me from breathing.

 _I'm up. Now what?_ I wonder, glancing around the apartment. I want to show Ransom I'm not dead weight. Maybe dead isn’t the best word to use. I don’t want to be useless.

I wander quietly around the apartment until I find cleaning supplies. Coming home to a clean apartment will definitely make him happy. Not that his apartment is exactly dirty.

I lose track of time cleaning. By the time I'm done, every polishable surface of the apartment gleams. I think he’ll be happy with me.

I’ve just put everything away when the front door cracks open.

“I’ve got great news, Jake! Where are you?” he calls from the living room.

“Laundry room.” My voice comes out small and trembling. I don’t know what he wants. I meet him in the kitchen.

The excited grin on his angular face makes me nervous.

“Did you clean? Everything’s so shiny!” he remarks.

“Yeah. I just got done, actually. I thought you might like it.” I manage an uneasy smile. I stuff my hands deep into the pockets of my borrowed pajama bottoms.

“It looks really good. That’s not what I wanted to tell you, though. Are you looking for a new job?”

“I’ve been looking, Ransom. I'm not getting anywhere.” I sigh softly.

“There’s this dog rescue hiring. This girl I work with was telling me about it. It’s her boyfriend’s rescue. Mateo Velasquez. I’ve got the number and address in case you wanna check it out. They’re still open.”

I haven’t heard Mateo’s name since we graduated. I wish it didn’t make my heart speed up just that little bit. I loved him. I guess I still do if I'm having this reaction. I don’t want to love him, though; it causes me too much pain.

“You know him, don’t you? I can tell from your face. Did he do something to you?” Ransom says gently, pulling me from my thoughts.

“We went to school together. No, he’s great.” I don’t tell Ransom the truth. I don’t feel safe coming out yet.

“Just wanted to make sure.”

“Um, d’you know anything about the rescue?” I want so badly to apply. To actually have a decent job. I’ve been disappointed so much, though, I'm afraid to get my hopes up.

“I know it’s full-time. You’ll have benefits. From the way Tabitha was talking, it’s decent pay.”

“Is it still open?”

“Yeah. You wanna check it out?”

I nod quietly.  
  
I don’t say a word the entire drive past Wal-Mart and the theater to the rescue. It’s across the road from Kohl’s in a large tan pole barn. The parking lot is mostly empty. It’s too dark to make out much else.

“You want me to wait here?” Ransom asks, parking near the door.

“Yeah, please.”

The warm, beige and gray lobby of the rescue is empty. There’s a long counter on my left with computers on it. The wall behind the counter has a door in it, leading to an office. There are several generic brown chairs in the lobby. There’s a metal swinging door on the wall facing me; through the glass, I can see a long hallway. The lobby smells like apple pie.

“Can I help you?” a familiar, low voice calls from the office.

I'm face-to-face with Mateo before I have time to think of what I want to say. He looks good. He always looked good, though. He still has the same mischievous glint in his russet eyes. He cut his black hair quite short since the last time I saw him. Just like before, my train of thought derails at the sight of him. It doesn’t matter that I don’t even have a snowball’s chance with him. He’s still the same adorable, sweet baby-faced guy I crushed on all through high school.

“Jake! Hey, dude! What’s up?” he grins, hugging me before I can protest. The scent of his cologne wipes out any traces of apple pie. If the sight of him derails my train of thought, the hug sets it on fire. He lets me go when I pull back. I need him to not be so close.

“I, um, I need a job app. Please?” I stare at the light gray tile floor. If I don’t look at him, I can think straight. I'm not reminded of my crush then.

“Yeah, sure. I'm sorry I scared you.” The sincerity in his voice makes me look up.

“It’s okay.”

“No. Follow me. Ignore the mess.” He leads me into his office.

When he said mess, I was expecting a couple papers here and there. It looks like a hurricane hit a paper factory and deposited debris over every available surface of the office. I can vaguely make out a desk and a couple chairs beneath the paper mountains.

“I told you it was a mess. Seth is dying to organize it,” he tells me, his beige cheeks pinkening in embarrassment.

“I thought it was just a couple papers. Holy crap.”

He somehow finds an application in the mess.

“How’ve you been since graduation?” he asks while I fill out the app.

“My life pretty much sucks. You?”

“No spouse or picket fence?”

“No. Far from it.”

“I’ve got a girlfriend now. Her name’s Tabitha. She’s amazing.”

“Are you happy?” In the end, that’s the important thing, I guess. I’d love for him to be mine. But I know it will never happen. I just want him to be happy and be with someone who recognizes how amazing and beautiful he is.

“I am. I'm thinking about proposing.”

Forget what I said about him being happy. This feels like a sucker punch to the gut. I can’t breathe. I should be over him by now but I'm not.

“That’s great!” I fake a smile.

“We can go ahead and do the interview tonight if you want.”

“That would be great.”  
  
“So, honestly, I think you might be the best choice,” Mateo tells me after the interview.

“You’re not just sayin’ that ‘cause we’re friends, right?”

“No. I'm serious. You’ll be starting out at fifteen an hour. Nine to five. For the first two weeks, you’ll only work Monday to Thursday, okay? You’ll get vacation. And insurance. I'm working on getting a 401(k) set up for you guys.”

“When do I start?”

“You can start Monday. Come in tomorrow and we’ll go over the paperwork for your insurance and everything. And you can meet the crew. If you start dating anyone here, it’s cool. Just keep it PG in front of the adopters, okay? And please don’t tell me about your sex life.”

“Thank you. You don’t know how much I appreciate this. Seriously. You’re the best. Um, what time do I need to be in?”

“Whenever you come in. It’s no problem, Jake.”

I feel better when I go back out to Ransom’s battered Blazer.

“So? How’d it go?” he asks excitedly.

“I got the job!” I don’t remember the last time I really smiled. Or the last time I was excited about anything. Things are finally looking up.

“Yay! That’s awesome!”

“So, you ready to get your stuff? Do you have a coat? You have to be freezing.”

“I guess so. Um, let me go in. The house is a safety hazard and I know where the worst spots are. No. I can’t afford one.”

“They have coat drives. Tell me how to get there.”

“Yeah, but I don’t deserve that sort of thing. Um, it’s straight past Good Sam and the Gulf station. You’ll know it when you see it.”

“You do too. You get paid, I'm dragging you to a store, and you’re getting a coat.”

“You’re pushy.”

“Do you think you’ll like the rescue?” He backs carefully out of the space.

“Yeah. I know I’ll at least like my boss. Where was your car when you found me?”

“At the apartment. I live close enough to work I don’t drive there. It’s easier.”

“Can I ask something? I'm not trying to be rude or anything.”

“If I think you’re rude, I’ll tell you. What’s up?”

“How’d you afford the car and the apartment and everything?”

“Oh. I'm actually looking for a second job. I’d been working two jobs, but the other one closed last week. I’ve put my app in at a few places. Bank, car dealer, fast food places, Pizza Hut. I applied to every restaurant we have, even B-Dubs. The car was a present, actually. Julia Martin, the cop who I talked to when I first got out, bought it for me after I got my license. She’s like my mom. I call her every weekend.”

“Are you from here?”

“No. After I was kidnapped, they sold me whenever they got bored or whenever I wasn’t bringing in enough money. I wound up in Robinson. That was with Kyle and Levi. Kyle was my last owner. He was absolutely horrid. They’re the ones I ran from. I moved here for college. Haven’t told Julia I dropped out.”

“You talk about it like it’s no big deal. Why’d you drop out?”

“I got bullied and harassed. It wasn’t worth it.”

“What were you going for? If I get on your nerves, I can shut up.”

“I was just going for my basics. I didn’t have my major figured out yet.”

“So, why were they bullying you? You seem really nice.”

“Because they could. Because I have social anxiety. I'm not good with people. Like, I don’t interact well. Or look at them when I talk. Looking at my owner was seen as defiant and got me beat. It’s an old habit. Um, the fact there aren’t a lot of people like me here doesn’t help.”

“Like you how? So, how do you do your job when you’re not good with people?”

“I’m both gay and Israeli. Non-practicing Jew. Even if I was religious, it wouldn’t matter because there’s no synagogue here. I make drinks. That’s all I’m allowed to do. I don’t have to deal with them then. Plus, if I try to work the till, Matt has to fix the cash register because I screw it up. So, it’s just easier if I make drinks.”

“Oh. I take it people have a problem with that?”

“Yeah. Do you?” His jade eyes hold a challenge. For the first time since I met him, he’s sitting still.

“No. People suck. Is that one reason why you’re so nervous around me?”

“Yeah. That and you’re a guy. Guys scare me.”

“Thanks for not taking me up on the offers. No offense. You’re nice. And attractive. But I would probably have a panic attack and puke on you.”  
  
He parks in front of the dilapidated house I call home. “Want me to go in with you?”

“I’d rather go alone. I don’t want you to see it.” _I don’t want your pity. I’m not some gutter puppy on an ASPCA commercial. And you’ll pity me if you see the inside of that dump,_ I add silently, climbing out of his car carefully.

It takes maybe an hour for me to throw all my stuff into garbage bags and put it in his trunk. He seems surprised by how little I own. I have four garbage bags of stuff.

“Would you like help putting things away or no?” he asks gently.

“No. Thanks, though.”


	4. Ransom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really excited for y'all to meet Tabitha in this chapter. She's my first trans character, so if I have something wrong, please tell me. Also, Matt's a racist butthole. This is the fourth time I've written this thing.

I think I liked work better when it was just Matt and I or Matt, Tabitha, and I. Caleb and Matt bicker playfully but noisily over some video game they like. Mika, Caleb’s boyfriend, is high as fuck on who knows what. I don’t like high people. Tabitha is her usual nonchalant, happy self.

“Mateo told me he hired your roommate,” she remarks as we make drinks.

“Thank him for me. Jake needed a break.”

I glance uneasily in search of Mika. I’ve been hurt enough by inebriated people to never want that to happen again. I automatically need to be able to keep track of him.

Lost in my head, I don’t realize Matt’s speaking to me until he shouts a slur at me loud enough everyone hears it. Every conversation goes absolutely silent. I stare at him in confusion. Why is he doing this to me? What did I do wrong?

That’s when he calls me a stupid whore and Tab guides me outside by the arm. I'm not trying to get violent, even though I'm furious, but I think she’s worried he might. Those two words are the only ones to really tick me off, especially when they’re put together. I don’t know why he suddenly thinks calling me names is okay.

Shaking with anger, I lean my head back against the brick wall making up the side of the coffee shop. My fingers reach automatically for my blue Star of David necklace. I need to fidget with something right now.

“Are you okay?” Tab asks.

“What’d I do wrong?” I want to pace. Moving helps. It’s soothing, but I don’t really have the space to do that right now. Besides, Tab might think it’s weird. So, I settle for playing with my necklace and drumming my fingers against my thigh.

“He wasn’t even talking to you before he called you that. You weren’t screwing around or anything. He was just being a dick.”

“He asked me to sleep with him. And I said no.”

“Wow. I’d hate to see what he does if it’s something major. I mean, you have the right to say no. You’re not dating him, are you? ‘Cause if you are, you need to get out of there.”

“No, he just wanted to hook up, which isn’t what I want. I have horrible taste in men apparently.” I smile mirthlessly. “He didn’t really get I don’t hook up. Like, sex isn’t something I'm really that into. Sorry. TMI.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear it if you want.” She grins playfully as she nudges my shoulder lightly. Tab’s one of the only people who can touch me without me flinching. Her long glittery nails would hurt—a lot—if she decided to dig them into my skin. But Tab isn’t like that; she’s one of the best people I know. “He shouldn’t be bullying you over it.”

“I didn’t think he was like this. I thought he was decent. Like you. You’re one of the nicest people ever. You’re also one of the only people I have to look up at.” Talking with her is helping. I feel a little bit calmer, which is good. Even though I'm freezing my butt off.

“I thought he was too. And he’s not. Um, I have something to tell you, since I don’t know if Matt will let it slip because he’s apparently an elephant turd.” Her light brown eyes flicker to the sidewalk as she draws a shaky breath. “I'm trans. Matt’s the only other one here who knows. So, don’t get on the loudspeaker or anything, okay?”

“I'm not gonna out you. That’s shitty. Even if I didn’t like you. Even if you were an elephant turd like Matt. We gotta stick together.”

“You, _you’re_ a good guy. Matt’s an ass. Actually, no. I’ve met nicer donkeys. Mateo’s uncle has a burro. Remember when I had that blonde wig? I had to throw it out because the burro legit tried to eat it. Just snatched my wig right off. I don’t think I’ve ever been so embarrassed in my life.”

“I remember it. I remember you braiding it like Danaerys’ hair a couple times. I don’t know if there’s actually a word for what he is.”

“Mateo used to call me Khaleesi when I did that. Did I ever show you our Halloween costume when we won best costume?”

“No, you haven’t. Thanks for doing this, Tab. I owe you.”

“You better?”

“Yeah, thanks. Seriously. I appreciate this.”  
  
Matt goes off on me again the minute we step back inside the coffee shop. People have their phones out, expecting a fight.

“I'm going home, Matt. I'm not putting up with this,” I snap, taking my apron off and hanging it behind the counter.

The look he gives me is full of loathing.

“I can’t believe I ever thought you were hot,” I spit on my way out.

I could lose my job for this. I know that. I can’t afford to lose my job. But I’ve spent two years trying to get some form of self-worth back, and I'm not letting Matt destroy it. All because I don’t want to hook up. Why am I still being punished for my ‘no’?

I don’t want to go back to the apartment. But there’s nowhere else I’d like to go. So, it’s home I go.

The apartment smells incredible when I walk in. I don’t know what it is, but it makes me hungry. I haven’t eaten yet, so I might sit down with the pan. I mean, I’ll still share with Jake.

Jake looks perfectly at home in the kitchen. He checks the skillet on the stove before going back to julienning peppers.

“What’re you makin’?” I ask curiously, leaning on the counter. He almost cuts himself when he jumps.

“You scared me. I didn’t hear you come in. Um, I thought vegetable lo mein might be good. You don’t have any meat, so I grabbed all the veggies I could find. Does it smell okay? It’s gonna have ramen instead of lo mein noodles. Is that okay? Why’re you home early?”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to give you a heart attack. It smells amazing! Did you already go to the rescue? I don’t eat meat. If you do, it’s no biggie. Hey, ramen works. I, um, I walked out.” I feel horrible for scaring him, especially since he almost got hurt because of it.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. No. I was waiting till you got home. Then I got hungry, and I figured you’d probably be hungry too, so I started supper. I can’t afford meat. I don’t remember what it tastes like.”

“I should have told you one thing. And I forgot. I’m allergic to cinnamon.”

“No cinnamon in this. From the way you said it, I’m guessing it’s bad?”

“I have an EpiPen. My face and throat swell up and I can’t breathe. Makes pumpkin pie spice season fun.”

“So apple pie could kill you.”

“Pretty much. Are you doing better?”

“I’m not thinking about trying to jump off a bridge. Does that count? I was actually productive today. I got all my stuff unpacked and put away. And I called my landlord and quit the daycare. I’m trying.”

“You were productive yesterday too. Jake, you don’t have to push yourself to do things you don’t feel up to.”

“Oh, yeah. I polished whatever I could. I need to. I can’t afford rent yet, so I have to give you a reason to keep me.”

“No, you don’t. If it makes your mental health worse, it’s not worth it.”

“I’m not a mooch.” Anger flickers in his blue eyes. I’m not sure if he’s angry with me or himself.

“I didn’t think you were. I never thought you were.”

“My parents told me I was a lazy bum. I had trouble functioning back then too. I got as messed up as I did when you found me. It’s hard for me to do things when I’m extremely depressed. But I was lazy. Not sick. I barely graduated because I was functioning so poorly. I didn’t do my homework. I missed a lot. And I never really got better.”

“Jake. I don’t know what it’s like dealing with that. I don’t know what it feels like. But I know what having anxiety feels like and, if they’re anything alike, I understand what it’s like to not be able to function and be productive.” I touch his shoulder lightly. He leans into my touch like a cat. I don’t think he knows he’s even doing it.

“At least you can sympathize.” He tosses the peppers into the hot skillet.

“What all is in there?”

“Peppers, mushrooms, frozen corn, a can of green beans, a can of peas, green onion, water chestnuts, yuzu sauce, and gochujang.”

“Sounds good.”

“Thanks. Why did you walk out? Did Matt try to seduce you again?” The mention of Matt’s name causes my anger to surge all over again.

“Matt was an absolute dick today. He’s started bullying me. He called me a stupid whore.”

“What was he bullying you for?”

“He’s still mad that I won’t sleep with him. He’s not who I thought I was.”

“He called you names over this? That’s so not cool.”

“Racial slurs, actually.”

“That makes it worse. I'm sorry.”

“I really liked him too. I mean, he was someone I could see myself dating. And he’s nothing like what I thought he was.” I sigh softly.

“People suck. I'm sorry.”

“Me too. I don’t know if I’ve lost my job or not. Everyone heard him, though. Tab got me out of there.”

“He shouldn’t have done that. I know this is probably really weird. But I don’t know much about you. I should’ve said something the other night, but I was too busy trying to stay breathing.” He adds a couple packs of ramen to the veggies.

“No big deal. You can ask me whatever you’d like to know. If I'm uncomfortable, I’ll tell you. Just—Just respect me, okay?”

“What’s your favorite color? Favorite animal? What do you do for fun?”

“Lime green. I like vibrant, bright colors mostly. Dolphins, kiwi, and kangaroo. Binging _Supernatural_ , reading fanfic, trying to keep my tiny succulent garden alive, and learning more about my heritage. I know the last one sounds weird, but it is fun for me. I’ve been teaching myself Hebrew. I'm basically illiterate, but I know my numbers. Your turn.”

“I thought kiwi were fruit? Burnt orange. Why do you wear so much black if you like bright colors? I don’t really do anything for fun. Fun stuff costs money. Bats. I like bats. I think they’re adorable.”

“Kiwi are also a bird. They’re weird little things, but their weirdness makes them adorable. Black plays up my skin color less. It’s not safe to look Middle Eastern, and, if I can lessen it, I will.”

I enjoy talking with Jake over dinner. He seems like a really sweet guy. Is he someone I’d consider dating? No. I think I could easily become friends with him, though, and I could use more of those.


	5. Jake

I wish I could say my first day at the rescue doesn’t make me nervous. I wish I could say I'm not dreading it. But I'm terrified.  
I'm too early. I know that. No one else is here yet, not even Mateo. It’s snowing heavily. I can’t go inside where it’s warm because the doors are still locked. And Ransom was running behind when he dropped me off, so I don’t even have the luxury of sitting in his warm car.  
I look up at the sound of tires on the snowy gravel. I don’t recognize the beaten red hatchback. Whoever it is parks at the edge of the building where the parking lot has been designated for employees. I watch the car warily.  
The driver is a couple inches shorter than me. Male. He seems to be just as nervous about me as I am about him.  
“I'm Seth. You are?” he says, offering to shake my hand.  
“Jake. Today’s my first day.”  
“Ah. I'm not gonna bite. I know the piercings make me look scary, but I'm honestly pretty harmless.” He smiles gently. That’s when I notice the green snakebites. They almost match his vibrant eyes.  
“I hadn’t noticed them.”  
“Do you wanna sit in my car until Mateo gets here? I am freezing, and I know you have to be since you don’t have a coat.”  
I agree reluctantly. I don’t know Seth or trust him.  
The car smells like peppermint.  
“Since we’re gonna be working together, I should probably tell you I'm hard of hearing. I wear hearing aids. Please don’t be a jerk about it like my ex was.”  
“She shouldn’t have been.”  
“He. Ex-boyfriend. Cam was a turd. I promise I'm not gonna be crude or hit on you or grope you or anything like that.”  
“Are you okay?”  
“Generally. You look worried. Is it because I'm gay or because my ex was a turd?”  
“The ex.”  
“He never got physical. He was just controlling and emotionally abusive. Oh, and he cheated on me. I walked in on him with another guy. I thought maybe you figured I’d be all over you since I like guys.” He shifts in the driver’s seat until he’s facing me.  
“No, I figured, if you did anything, it’s because you’re human.”  
“Oh. I'm not a monster. We’re gonna be working together, by the way. Okay, that sounded stupid. I meant one-on-one.”  
“Are you gonna get in trouble for this?”  
“For what? Mateo knows I hang out in my car and listen to music before he gets here. Sometimes I play it for the dogs. They seem to like Beethoven.”  
“No, I mean, you don’t have a boyfriend who’s gonna be mad at you for being alone with me, do you? You like classical music?”  
“No. You haven’t done anything to make my hypothetical, nonexisting boyfriend angry anyway. We’re just hanging out. Some of it. I used to play piano when I was a kid. I got burned out, so I haven’t touched a piano in years.”  
“What were some of your favorite songs to play?”  
“Um, Tchaikovsky and Beethoven’s pieces were some of my favorite classics. I liked doing piano covers of rock songs too. I did a cover of Carry on My Wayward Son for the talent show.”  
“Why did you get burned out? You’re the first person I’ve met who knows how to play an instrument.”  
“I pushed myself too hard. I didn’t push myself because I liked it. I pushed myself because I wanted to be good. I had to be good. I did like it and I ruined it for myself.”  
I ask him why curiously.  
“I needed to make up for being gay. I needed to give my parents a reason to want me. To still love me. I thought if I was amazing at this one thing it would negate the fact I was a humongous disappointment.” He sighs quietly. “I didn’t come out to them until after I left Cam. So, like, three months ago? To be straight, you’re actually pretty cool about listening to this.”  
“Were they okay with you? Do they know what a turd he was?”  
“Yeah. It surprised me. No, I didn’t tell them anything about Cam. Fair warning, I tend to sing while I work and I'm pretty tone-deaf. You might want earplugs.” He grins playfully.  
He has a beautiful smile, I realize, glancing away. My face feels warm.

I follow Seth down the hallway I’d seen when I filled out the application. Four different doors line the hallway. A sign marks each door with the type of dogs inside: Special Needs; Abused; Senior; Normal. Seth takes me into the room with the normal ones.  
“Teo moved me here ‘cause I was having trouble working with the special needs ones. Nobody wants them. And it made me feel the same way about my disability,” he explains. “Grab a scoop and start filling up bowls for me please.”  
He starts changing out the newspapers in the pens while I fill the bowls.  
“Three of these guys are going to new homes today,” he tells me.  
“Really? So, what do we do with them?”  
“We feed them and walk them like we always do. Have you walked multiple dogs before?”  
“Yeah. Sometimes dog walking was the only money I made.”  
“So, you have any hobbies? You asked me if I had someone. Do you?”  
“I'm too poor to have hobbies. Nope.”  
“Now, see, that surprises me. I figured you had someone. I mean, you’re an attractive guy. Don’t take that the wrong way and beat my face in.”  
“I, um, I had a pretty bad experience. Have guys done that?” I get started putting bowls in the pens. Mostly, the dogs ignore me.  
“Oh. Are you alright? I’ve been punched before. Nothing major.”  
“No, I'm pretty screwed up. People shouldn’t do stuff like that.”  
“That’s why you’re so nervous with me, isn’t it?” He sounds saddened by this possibility.  
“Yeah. My parents didn’t do a very good job raising me. I don’t want to talk about it.”  
“I'm sorry.”  
Just like that, he drops the subject. I'm not used to this. My parents would’ve bullied and guilted me into talking about it. Seth simply lets it go.

“Lunchtime, dude,” Seth tells me, touching my arm gently. I look up from the sleeping Lab puppy in my lap.  
“I didn’t bring anything to eat.” The words barely make it out.  
“You’re not going hungry. Put the puppy in the pen and follow me.” His tone leaves no room for argument.  
I follow him down the hall to the breakroom. There’s a couple different vending machines with chips and drinks. One machine holds a variety of sandwiches. We have a microwave and a toaster on the counter. There’s a row of cabinets above the counter; I don’t know what they hold.  
“Go ahead and sit down,” he tells me, opening the refrigerator.  
I take my seat at the fake wood table closest to the fridge.  
“Where’s everyone else? We’re not the only ones who work here, right?” I ask.  
“Smoking. I don’t smoke while I'm here. I'm trying to quit, actually. So, if I'm cranky, I apologize. I started smoking to help my nerves with Cam.” He sets a container of fries and half a sub in front of me.  
“I don’t want to take your food.”  
“I'm giving you half. You’re not starving.” He sits across from me with the rest of the food.  
“Thank you.”  
I check my phone for the first time today. I have multiple texts from Ransom. The last text scares me.  
“D’you mind if I call my roommate real quick?” I ask, the words coming out too fast.  
“Do what now? You’re talking too fast.”  
“I need to call my roommate.”  
“Go ahead. No one’s gonna say anything.” He pulls out earbuds and plugs them into his own phone.  
Ransom picks up on the fifth ring.  
“Thank God. I'm not gonna be able to pick you up tonight. I'm sorry,” Ransom tells me thickly. He sounds extremely upset.  
“What’s wrong? Are you okay? I just got your texts.”  
“No. No. I just left the hospital. Tab had to drive me.”  
“Hospital? Ransom, what exactly happened?”  
“I got the crap knocked out of me.”  
“Why? Why would someone do that?”  
“Jake, calm down. Please. Please.” His voice breaks pitifully.  
“I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel worse. Do you need me to come home?”  
“Not on your first day. I’ll be okay. Um, if you need to not be alone, I can’t stay with you right now. Not after what happened today. I'm sorry. My anxiety is really messed-up right now on top of this.”  
“If I need that, I can see if I can stay the night somewhere else. Don’t be sorry. Are you sure you’re okay?”  
“Not the first time I’ve been beat. If you stay somewhere else, let me know, okay?”  
“Okay. If you need me, I’ll talk to Mateo and be home.” I hang up and stuff my phone back into my pocket. Seth removes his earbuds and puts them and his phone away.  
“You look upset. Break’s over in five, by the way,” he remarks.  
“My roommate got the crap knocked out of him. Well, I guess, technically, I'm his roommate. Um, can you give me a ride home? I’ll pay you for the gas when we get paid.”  
“Is he okay? That’s not a problem. Where do you guys live?”  
“I don’t know. Willowbrook on Main. Apartment 1A, I think.”  
“No way. We’re neighbors. I live across from you guys. 12 A.”  
“That’s cool.”  
“If you wanna hang out for a little bit after work, we can. Not a date or anything like that.”  
“Maybe.”  
I know I'm too quiet after break. I don’t know what I want to do about it.

I have another text from Ransom by the time we leave. He’s going to bed. I tell him I’ll see if I can stay with Seth.  
“Um, I know we just met and everything but—” I begin.  
“I am not having sex with you.”  
“That wasn’t my question. Can I stay the night? My roommate is already going to bed.”  
“Oh. Um, yeah, I guess.”  
“I don’t have a spare key. That’s the only reason I asked.”  
“Dude. Not a problem, alright? I just wasn’t expecting it. Couch work?” He smiles gently. Part of me wonders what his piercings would feel like if I kissed him. If his lips would be as soft as they look.  
I figured out I was bi after I graduated high school. After I realized being tongue-tied by girls and guys, mostly guys, wasn’t something everyone experienced. I never came out. I never had anyone I trusted enough to come out to. And I never felt comfortable with the idea of coming out. I envy the people like Ransom and Seth who are that comfortable.  
“The couch works. Thanks for doing this.”  
I'm scared to go in his apartment. I'm scared Seth isn’t as nice as he acts. I don’t know him very well. He could hurt me. He could be dangerous.  
“You want some pizza rolls? Go ahead and kick back and relax,” Seth tells me inside the apartment. “Excuse the mess.”  
The apartment isn’t really that messy. There are several stacks of paper on coffee table. A bunch of boxes are stacked under the window facing the parking lot. A silver laptop sets on the one clean spot on the coffee table.  
“What’re the boxes for? Are you moving?” I ask.  
“Nah. I make and sell bath bombs and stuff on the side. The boxes are for my orders. The papers are receipts for my customers.”  
“Oh. How’d you get started?” The red couch feels better than ours.  
“I like bath bombs, so I figured making my own might be cheaper. I thought maybe other people would like them too. You want anything to drink?”  
“Pop works. Do people like them?”  
“Yeah, they do.” He has two plates of pizza rolls and two cans of Pepsi. “After we eat, I'm gonna go smoke. You don’t have to go with me. I’ll show you around after that.”  
“Is it hard to quit?”  
“Yeah. I bought a vape so I can wean myself off slowly. I know, I know. They’re not safe. But I don’t stink afterwards. I’ve been smoking since I was eighteen; that was when he and I moved in together and everything went to crap. He used to call and scream at me. Or make fun of me for my disability. He thought it was funny to hide my hearing aids. Or pantomime smashing them. I went into hysterics over it one night. Not a lot of people know sign language, so I'm pretty dependent on these things.” He shudders slightly at the memories.  
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. You look pretty upset. How long were you guys together?” I touch his forearm gently. I probably should have asked first since I'm not sure how he feels about physical contact.  
“Five years. So, do you have any relationship horror stories?”  
His eyes widen in surprise when I tell him about the girl at the party. He looks even more horrified than Ransom did.  
“Is that your only experience?” he asks quietly when I'm done.  
“Yeah.” I stare at my half-eaten plate of pizza rolls. I don’t feel as hungry now. “I couldn’t do anything about it. People at school thought it was funny. Mateo was sort of my bodyguard back then. Dealing with that did wonders for my mental health.”  
“How’s that supposed to be funny? You were raped. There’s nothing humorous about that. Teo’s a good guy. I like working for him. I bet it did. I'm sorry you went through that. You and Teo are like the least crappy straight guys I’ve ever met. Just sayin’.”  
I could tell him. Right now, I realize.  
“Thank you for letting me stay,” I tell him instead.  
“No problem. I’ll be taking my hearing aids out before I shower, so, if we talk after that, I may ask you to repeat things a lot. Or have you write things down. Please, please, please don’t treat me like I'm stupid.”  
“Whatever’s easier on you. And stresses you out the least.”  
“Having you write it down would help the most.” He smiles gratefully. “I'm gonna go smoke.”  
I go out with him. I don’t like the idea of being alone in his apartment; I don’t want to be accused of stealing. The small concrete front porch feels like a block of ice through my jeans.  
“My goal is to get down to once a day and then lower my nicotine level more. I was pretty stressed about today, so I was bad and this is the third time I’ve smoked,” he explains, putting the vape to his lips. The vapor smells like cotton candy.  
“Were you stressed about working with me?” I shiver violently in the cold night air.  
“Yeah. I didn’t know if you were homophobic or not. I didn’t intend to tell you about Cam. In high school, I got beat up and bullied a lot. I wasn’t out, but people suspected and that was enough in their minds to justify it.”  
“People suck. Why did you think I expected sex?”  
“I brought you home with me. I figured you thought that was the only logical explanation. I feel like a jerk for saying that after you told me about the girl.”  
“I wasn’t upset. Does that taste the way it smells?”  
“Uh-huh. That’s one reason I bought a vape. I have a root beer liquid too, but it makes my head hurt, so I don’t use it. I'm almost done.”  
“How long have you worked for Mateo?”  
“I started straight out of high school. We went to different high schools, so I didn’t know him beforehand. He went to toe-to-toe with Cam a couple times. Cam thought I was sleeping with Teo. Teo got between us. That’s how bad it was. He thought Cam was gonna start punching me.”  
“Mateo’s a good guy. Did Cam punch you?”  
“No. Not something I'm talking about with a guy I just met. No offense. I don’t wanna trigger you, okay?” He sighs softly.  
“Okay.” I rub his shoulder gently.  
“You’re very touchy-feely.”  
“Sorry.” I move my hand quickly.  
“It’s okay. My parents were crazy about hugging, so I don’t mind.”  
“Mine weren’t like that. Unless they were hurting me, they didn’t touch me.”  
“Okay, that makes me want to squeeze you and cuddle you. Platonically.” He grins at me around his vape. “I'm almost done, by the way.”  
“Please don’t.” I stare uncomfortably at my knees. I wish the idea of a cute guy offering affection didn’t make me so anxious.  
“Whoa. I wasn’t trying to freak you out. I'm sorry. Are you okay?” He touches my back lightly. Despite his gentleness, I flinch away like it was a blow.  
“I have really bad depression. I'm not medicated. I haven’t even been to therapy. I, um, I live with Ransom because he stopped me from trying to kill myself. I'm not even sure if depression is actually what’s wrong with me. Maybe I'm just broken. Depression is the only thing that fits.”  
“Oh. Mateo’s pretty good about letting us have time off for therapy. I'm glad he stopped you. I don’t think you’re broken, by the way. Are you okay to sleep alone or is it better if someone’s there? I'm not gonna use it as an excuse to feel you up or anything. If you’re more comfortable, we can use a pillow as a buffer. I know we don’t know each other, and you have no reason to trust me. I have no reason to trust you.”  
“Good. I haven’t been able to afford therapy until now. I'm okay right now. Thank you, though.”  
I wish his happy, easy grin didn’t give me butterflies. I wish I didn’t want to get lost in those bright green eyes. At least I'm developing feelings for someone who’s not Mateo, but this probably won’t work out either.


	6. Jake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief mention of sexual assault and mention of racism-fueled physical assault. Nothing graphic, I promise.  
> Are y'all liking this so far? I know my style has changed a lot since the last fics I posted. Heck, it's been, what, three years almost since I posted anything?

It takes several phone calls before I find a therapist willing to take on a new patient and also accepting our insurance. It feels surreal to be making an appointment.  
“You look really happy,” Seth remarks when he walks in. I tap my ear lightly, asking silently if he has his hearing aids in. “Yeah, they’re in.”  
“I start therapy next week. Can we hang out again tonight?”  
“Actually, I already had plans. I'm sorry. My friend Sam set me up with this guy on a blind date. I can let you know how it goes, though, if you want. No naughty details. I promise.”  
“Okay.”  
I like Seth. I think he’s attractive. He’s kind. Caring. Sweet. He’s someone I’d like to date. But I have to come out for him to know I'm even a possibility, and that terrifies me so much it’s hard to breathe.  
“Don’t worry. I'm not gonna stop talking to you if I start seeing someone,” he tells me, grinning easily. “I'm gonna smoke and then we can go.”

Ransom looks worse than I expected when I get home tonight. He has a bandage over his right eye. His left arm is in a sling. He keeps holding his side like his ribs hurt. He has a nasty cut on his left cheekbone and a split in his lower lip.  
“Aren’t I pretty?” he grins, going back to the couch.  
“What happened?”  
“A hate crime. He beat me because I'm Jewish. He saw my Star of David necklace and that was the only excuse he needed. Add my coloring to the mix, and he decided I was a terrorist too.”  
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I touch his shoulder hesitantly. He flinches at the contact. “Sorry.”  
“Nothing I haven’t been through before. Only difference is I get pain killers this time. I don’t really like taking them. They make me groggy. Um, they used to drug me, so anything that makes me groggy or not in full control of myself is something I try to avoid. I’ve been taking ibuprofen and Tylenol. They don’t really help, but I feel more comfortable taking them. If I overshare about my past and it makes you uncomfortable, tell me. Please don’t touch me.”  
“You’re just so…nonchalant about it.”  
“My therapist told me I’m desensitized. How’s the rescue? Where did you stay last night?” His green eyes watch me with curiosity and excitement.  
His sincerity surprises me.  
“I like it. I stayed with one of the guys from work. He’s really nice. He actually lives in the apartment across from us,” I reply.  
“What’s he like?”  
I stare at him, wide-eyed. I don’t know what to say. Not without telling him the truth about me. And that scares me far too much.  
“Jake, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. Okay?” he murmurs gently.  
“Thank you. I’m sorry. Um, I get to start therapy soon. I made an appointment before work.”  
“That’s great! I’m proud of you. That’s not weird, is it? I mean, we haven’t known each other that long.”  
“I don’t think it’s weird. Never had someone tell me that before.” I smile sheepishly. It makes me happy. “Do you mind if Seth and I hang out after while? Is Matt still being a jerk?”  
“Go ahead. Yeah, he’s still a jerk. I told him I don’t want to be friends anymore. I apparently have pretty bad taste in men. I mean, I really liked him, but he’s a really crappy human being.”  
“I should’ve come home last night instead of staying with Seth. I mean, you kept me alive. I should’ve made sure you were okay. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry Matt’s still a jerk.”  
“Jake, you did make sure I was okay. Who’s Seth? I shouldn’t have made you spend the night somewhere else. If anyone should be upset, it’s you.”  
“We work together. He lives in the apartment across from us. Is it okay if I hang out with him tonight?”  
“You don’t have to ask. Do you like the rescue so far?”  
“I like it. I get to hang out with puppies. Seth’s the only coworker I’ve actually talked to so far. A lot of them smoke, so I don’t really see them. Um, I made an appointment with a therapist since I can actually afford to now.”  
“That’s great! I was thinking about suggesting therapy, but I didn’t want you to think I was pushy. Um, I'm gonna be working at a couple different restaurants starting tomorrow. I’ll be leaving the coffee shop at three and going straight to Holy Guacamole Monday through Wednesday from four to ten. And then I'm working at Pizza Hut Thursday through Sunday from four to nine. I’ll be waiting on tables. So, I’ll probably be an anxious mess.”  
“You’re really pushing yourself. Why?”  
“I'm gonna have hospital bills to pay. And I don’t know what else to do.” He sounds extremely distressed. I don’t like it.  
“Hey. I'm gonna help with bills and crap, okay? It’s gonna be okay. You’re really stressed. Are you excited at all about the new jobs? I mean, you’ll be meeting new people. Making new friends. You might meet a guy.” I want to make him feel better, so if I have to hype the change up, I will.  
“No, I'm terrified. I'm not a people person anyway. This is going to be hell, but I don’t know what else to do.” He rakes a shaky hand through his black curls. He winces as he draws a deep breath.  
“How can I make it better?”  
“You can’t.”  
“D’you want to watch a movie or something? Play a game? Did you eat already?”  
“A movie works. No. I haven’t felt like eating.”  
“You want more mac and cheese?”  
“That works.”  
I don’t like an upset, stressed Ransom. It makes me nervous. And I don’t know how to help him feel better.

Seth and I hang out on the steps of Ransom’s apartment. I don’t feel like going far from Ransom.  
“So, how was the date?” I ask.  
“Horrible. It was a nightmare.” He looks agitated as he puts the vape to his lips.  
“You okay?”  
“No. He kept flirting with the waiter. He was super touchy-feely. I don’t put out on a first date. Third date, yeah, not too much of a big deal. He got mad. Apparently, I was ‘leading him on’.”  
“I can’t see you leading someone on. I mean, I know I just met you, but that doesn’t seem like your style. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”  
“I made him walk home. I feel like a total jerk for it. I didn’t know what else to do. He kept grabbing my junk. I kept asking him to stop. And he wouldn’t.” He sounds angry, not upset.  
“He should’ve respected you when you told him no. You’re not a jerk. You were protecting yourself.”  
“I haven’t told Sam what happened. He’ll freak. And I want to put that off for a while.”  
“Will he blame you? It wasn’t your fault.”  
“I don’t know. He’s never set me up with anyone before.”  
“I don’t think he’s too good at this matchmaking thing.” This makes Seth laugh. He has a funny-sounding laugh. It’s more of a squeaky giggle.  
“No, not really.”  
“Um, can I ask you something?”  
“What is it?”  
“Can we ride to work together? Ransom’s schedule changed, so I thought it might be easier on him if I rode with you.”  
“Yeah, sure. I was gonna ask you about that anyway.”  
“Thanks. Can I ask about your side hustle?”  
“I don’t charge my friends.”  
“That’s not fair to you. What else d’you make? What’s one of your favorite bath bombs or other things to make? How long have you been doing it?”  
“Um, I make slime too. I'm trying to branch out into cosmetics too, like lip balm and nail polish and maybe lipgloss, but it’s not going well. I end up swearing and smoking a lot when I work on them. I make slime because it’s fun. It’s fun to play with, especially if you fidget a lot. My favorite bath bomb is one of my Valentine’s Day specials. It’s chocolate-covered strawberry scented and has pink sprinkles in it. My favorite slime is this lavender-infused one with pink and blue glitter. It’s so pretty and relaxing. I started making the bath bombs in high school before Cam happened. I didn’t make any while we were together. He didn’t like it and I don’t like having things thrown at me. The one time I made any, he destroyed a big order I was working on. Smashed it to dust.”  
“D’you make any lime green slime? That bath bomb sounds like it smells incredible. He threw things at you? Seth, that’s horrible!” I touch his forearm tentatively. I'm not sure how he feels about physical contact after the disastrous date.  
“Yeah, I do. Why? Next time I make one of those, you can smell it. Yeah. I have pretty good reflexes now. That and I flinch whenever you move with something in your hand.”  
“Ransom loves lime green and he fidgets with anything he can get his hands on. I’ll try to remember that then.”  
“Let me see what I can do. Okay? Do you think he’d like it scented or no? Thank you.”  
“I’ll talk to him and find out. He’s really stressed out right now, and I wanna help.”  
“Alright, I'm freezing, so I'm gonna head out. See you tomorrow.”  
“Sleep tight.”

Ransom has fixed himself a bowl of microwave popcorn by the time I go back in.  
“I’ll share the blanket,” he offers with a smile.  
I agree easily. It’ll be warmer that way, and I'm pretty cold right now. I like Seth, but it’s definitely too cold for me to go outside with him while he smokes.  
“What’re you wanting to watch?” I ask, drawing my knees up to my chest on the couch.  
“Is a comedy okay? I don’t know what types of movies you like.”  
“To be honest, it’s been so long since I’ve seen one I don’t know what kind I like.”  
“Comedies and horror are my favorites. I'm dreading tomorrow, by the way.”  
“I know you are. It’s gonna be okay.”  
“I'm scared. I'm scared of a repeat of today. I'm scared of being assaulted. Or harassed.” He starts playing with his necklace again.  
“You do that a lot when you’re upset. You’re likable. I mean, you have a charming smile. You’re attractive. You’re pleasant. People go for those things.”  
“Do what?”  
“You play with your necklace. I mean, you fidget with anything normally, but it’s your necklace when you’re upset.”  
“Yeah, I have a hard time keeping still. I, um, I was kept confined a lot, so being able to move is calming. I still can’t look at a dog crate without cringing.”  
“That had to have been so uncomfortable. I mean, you’re not exactly short. Are you, like, claustrophobic?”  
“It was. I don’t enjoy tight spaces, but it’s tolerable. Why?”  
“I just wondered. I didn’t know if it was something I needed to be concerned about if we ever went anywhere together.”  
“Oh. Not really. Honestly, unsolicited physical contact scares me more.”  
The last thing I want is to cause the person who saved my life any pain.


	7. Ransom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Homophobic slurs and anxiety attack

By the time I leave Daily Grind, I just want to curl up under a blanket and hide from everyone. My arm and ribs won’t stop throbbing. Matt kept being a total jerk to me.

I'm early for my shift at Holy Guacamole, which helps slightly. I swap my plain black shirt out for the hunter green uniform t-shirt with the bright yellow restaurant logo on the back. I tuck my necklace inside my shirt where it’s safe and hidden. I don’t want a repeat of last week’s beating.

The dinner rush has already packed the lime green restaurant. The smell of the tacos and burritos makes my stomach rumble with hunger; I haven’t eaten yet. It has both a menu and a buffet to build your own tacos, burritos, nachos, or whatever else your heart desires.

I don’t much like the dinner rush. All the noise makes it hard for me to concentrate. Plus, I feel like everyone is judging me. I feel like everyone can see what I was. Like the filth of it is still covering my skin. I can make decent tips if no one harasses me and I can get the voice in the back of my head to shut up for five seconds, but sometimes that cold voice is the only thing I can focus on.

My section of tables is the set of six near the buffet bars. I don’t have anyone there yet, but I do have tables to clear and clean. It’ll keep my mind off what sort of people I might have to deal with.

I’ve barely gotten the tables done when the hostess brings a family of four to one of my tables. I put on my most charming smile as I greet them. I try not to notice the way the dad glares at the pride bracelet on my right wrist. I probably won’t get a tip from them, no matter how sweet and charming I am.

“What can I get you to drink?” I ask pleasantly, placing four napkin-wrapped sets of silverware and four straws on the table. The dad recites the drink order, enunciating each word clearly. Judgment shows in his cold brown eyes.

 _Prove him wrong. You’re good at that,_ I tell myself silently, writing the order on my notepad.

I have another diner waiting on me when I get back with the family’s drinks. He’s alone. Honestly, he’s kinda cute. I might be imagining it, but I think he’s checking me out. Or I might’ve left my fly down. Or my shoes don’t match.

I set the family’s drinks at their table and turn my attention to the cute guy. He isn’t looking at me like I'm some dirty thing. I notice the way he looks away as he tells me what he wants to drink.

He’s at the buffet when I come back with his drink. The family has come back to their table. I ignore the dad calling me the f-slur. That’s not my name and I'm not responding to it.

“Hey! I'm talking to you, you stupid fag,” he spits, grabbing my shoulder as I walk away.

“My name is Ransom. I am not stupid and I would appreciate it if you would not touch me.” My voice sounds more confident than I feel. Calmer than I feel, too. I'm scared.

“Or what? You’ll blow us up?” His grip tightens until I whimper softly. I don’t try moving his hand; I need to keep my other arm functioning.

This dredges up enough bad memories I can barely breathe. Memories of my ‘owners’ and their cruel hands grabbing me. Memories of purple bruises from their too-tight grip. This isn’t good. I can’t go into an anxiety attack in front of all these people. That would just be humiliating, and I don’t need to deal with any more humiliation than I already have in my twenty years.

“He told you not to touch him. You ought to listen,” an unfamiliar voice warns. It’s the cute guy. This just got worse. I'm on the verge of an anxiety attack and this cute guy who hasn’t harassed me yet might see it. Great.

He doesn’t have to defend me, but I'm grateful for it.

The family walks out. The loss of a tip doesn’t bother me as much as the four plates of uneaten food going to waste. I can’t stand the thought of wasting food. I went hungry too much to be okay with food going to waste.

I busy myself on clearing the table quickly. My head is still swimming. I have to get it together. I don’t have time to have an anxiety attack. Taking calming breaths only works if your lungs remember how to do their job. Mine currently don’t.

“Are you alright?” Cute Guy asks gently.

I nod jerkily. He doesn’t need to know how far from okay I am. He doesn’t need to know just how rattled I am.

The monster in the back of my head takes this as an opportunity to start screaming. I am dirty. I am unworthy. I am nothing more than a whore. Nothing I do will ever make me clean.

Who turned the volume up? It sounds like everyone is shouting. Like I'm in a theater. The lights seem too bright. It’s too hot. Too close. I'm sure the word ‘whore’ is written all over my skin in black, oozing ink. Or maybe it’s blood. Anyone who looks at me will be able to see just how filthy I am. They know what I am. How can they not when it’s written so clearly on my skin?

My heart slams against my broken ribs as if it wants to escape. I want to escape. I’ve gotten familiar with how the beginning of an anxiety attack feels. It feels like I'm dying.

“Are you alright?” Cute Guy asks a second time, touching my shoulder gently. His voice sounds far away. I flinch like he slapped me. A low whimper tears from my throat. Great, now I'm even more pathetic. He moves his hand quickly.

I shake my head. I stop talking when my anxiety gets this bad.

“You need to sit down? You’re shaking really bad,” he murmurs quietly.

I nod slowly.

I wish he was sitting at a booth so I could curl up. It’s the one way I feel just a tiny bit safer when this happens. But if he had a booth, he wouldn’t be in my section.

I sit in the chair across from him with my arms wrapped tight around my middle like I'm trying to hold myself together. I guess that’s exactly what I'm doing. I stare fixedly at the shiny wooden tabletop. I don’t want to look at him and see the pity in his eyes.

The sound of the manager’s footsteps makes me stiffen. I'm about to get my butt chewed big time.

“Ransom, you’re on the clock. You’re not supposed to be sitting on your ass until your break. Are you his boyfriend?” Wyatt, my boss, snaps angrily.

“No. I'm just a concerned bystander. His last table disrespected him pretty badly. He’s not okay,” Cute Guy explains.

“You’re not being a team player. We don’t have room for people who aren’t. You’re fired.”

I nod slowly. I just want to go home. But I'm not okay to drive right now. Actually, I'm probably going to text Tab and see if she can come get me.

“You can sit here as long as you need,” Cute Guy informs me when Wyatt leaves.

I manage a shaky, grateful smile. It’s slowly starting to stop. I still feel pretty much like garbage, but I'm starting to be able to breathe again. Breathing doesn’t equal being okay; it does mean I'm closer to okay, though.

“Thank you. I'm sorry about all…this,” I murmur timidly when I can finally speak again. I gesture vaguely with my good hand at the restaurant. I keep staring at the table like I’ll be interrogated about it.

“No problem. Um, what was that?” He doesn’t sound angry. He sounds concerned. Worried. Things I'm not used to a guy being where I'm concerned.

“Anxiety attack. I'm sorry.”

“Don’t be. Did I do it?”

“No. I, um, I have social anxiety. I can go if I'm bothering you. You’d probably rather enjoy your meal in peace, right?” I don’t want to be in his way. To be a bother. An inconvenience. A nuisance.

“You’re not bothering me. Being a waiter had to have been a nightmare for you. I'm Adam, by the way.”

“It was. I needed this job. Ransom, but you already know that from the nametag.” I can’t help the despair in my voice. I know he probably thinks I'm stupid now. Wouldn’t be the first time anyone did.

“That really sucks.” He sounds sincere enough I look up in surprise.

He’s cuter than I first thought. He has a sweet face. Wide, gray eyes the color of water under a cloudy sky below straight, thin eyebrows. Stylishly tousled black hair. Straight slender nose. Thin pink lips, though his lower lip is slightly fuller.

“I'm sorry I scared you when I touched you earlier,” he tells me quietly.

“It’s okay. Physical contact scares me. I, um, I’ve been a walking punching bag a lot.”

“I'm sorry. Um, it’s not happening at home, is it?”

“No. No, I'm safe there.”

“Okay. I was worried you were in an abusive relationship.”

“No. No, I don’t have anyone actually.” I think I'm subconsciously hoping he’ll ask me out. I don’t know why, though. It’s not like I'm good enough.

“That makes me feel better.” He pushes his empty plate to the side. “I'm gonna head out. I have something for you.”

“What?” Wariness slips into my voice before I can stop it.

He pushes forty dollars into my hand.

“It’s what I would’ve given you for a tip anyway.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to take your money.”

“I'm sure.”

“Thank you. It was very nice meeting you. And talking to you.”

“Same here.”

I turn in my things before I clamber inside my car. Sitting alone in the darkness allows being fired to sink in. I text Jake while I wait for Baby to get warm; she gets extra grumpy if I try to drive before she’s ready. I'm not going to ask Tab to come get me; being dependent on someone else will only make me feel worse.

 _Want me to make some cocoa when you get home? Are you ok?_ his answer reads.

_No. I just want to go to bed. I need to hit the reset button._

_Okay. Want me to stay with you?_

_No. Thanks._

This night feels like it will never end.  
  
Jake smiles happily when I trudge in.

“I’ve got something for you,” he announces, pulling out a small, brightly wrapped package. The lime green paper makes me smile. He remembered my favorite color.

“Thanks, Jake. You didn’t have to do this.” I take the present hesitantly. I don’t know what he might’ve gotten me, and I'm kinda scared to look.

“I know. I wanted to say thank-you. Y’know how you’re always fidgeting with something?”

“It’s not really something I can help.” I don’t like the defensive tone that slips into my voice. I'm just scared my constant fidgeting annoys him and he’s actually mad at me. I open it cautiously.

“Yeah, I know. It’s okay. I wasn’t complaining.”

Inside the package is a small jar of lime green slime.

“Thank you! How did you—Jake, you didn’t have to buy me anything. It’s even my favorite color. I didn’t get you anything, though.” I'm torn between being excited about the present and being upset he spent money on me.

“I didn’t. Seth makes slime and he doesn’t charge his friends, so I asked him to make it for you. You don’t have to get me anything. D’you like it?”

“Yeah, I do. Thank you.” I open the jar slowly. The scent of kiwi wafts out.

“Are you okay?”

“Jake, I had a really horrid day. I lost my job at Holy Guacamole. I just want to go to bed and reset. I feel like crap right now.”

“Sorry. Um, there’s leftover rice in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

“No thanks. Good night.”

“Sweet dreams.”

It’s a relief to shut my bedroom door between us. I know I shouldn’t feel that way, but dealing with people, even ones I like, isn’t helping.

I shed my clothes and curl up under my thick Sherpa blanket. Normally, I’d go through my entire self-care routine: Face mask, bath bomb, _Supernatural_ , rye chips, and the bottle of nail polish I keep hidden in my nightstand. And probably drag my sketchpad out too. I'm too _done_ to do any of the routine except _Supernatural._  
  
I wish Matt was less of a jerk. I wish he was the person I thought he was. The person I found attractive. Instead, he’s the same person I walked out on. How did such a nice person turn out to actually be so horrible?

“If it’ll get you to stop being nasty to me, I’ll sleep with you,” I mumble unwillingly.

I was a whore for fourteen years. At least this time _I'm_ the one doing it and I'm doing it for a better reason than not wanting the living snot knocked out of me. At least this time, I'm consenting.

It doesn’t surprise me when he agrees. I don’t know what I'm thinking by doing this, but, if it keeps him from making my life hell, it’s worth it.


	8. Ransom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a lot longer than I expected. Ransom's pretty messed-up in this one.

It shouldn’t upset me this much. It shouldn’t be this big of a deal. But every time I shut my eyes the word ‘whore’ flashes in red neon. Because that’s all I’ve ever been and probably all I’ll ever be.

It takes me a moment to remember how to work my washer as I dump the bedclothes in it. Anything he touched—No, anything _I_ touched—is getting dumped in. I’d put myself in if I could. If it wouldn’t kill me.

The why of it doesn’t matter. I know why I did it, I did it so he wouldn’t bully me and call me names. What matters is the fact I slept with him to do it. I whored myself out to achieve my goal. I haven’t hated myself this much in a while.

While the sheets wash, I turn my shower tap to the hottest water I can stand. I feel filthy. I haven’t felt this much like garbage in a while.

The water hurts. But that’s kinda the point. If it didn’t burn my skin and cause me pain, how would I know I was clean?

I scrub at my skin—at all the places he touched—until I’ve made myself raw. I have to wash the feeling of him away. I have to wash away the ‘whore’ written on my skin in black ink. This is the only way I know to be free of those things. I know it’s not healthy. But what else am I supposed to do? Call Jake? Or Tab? They’d both think I needed hugged and I can’t stand the thought of anyone touching me right now. I don’t like touching me right now.

Once I finally feel clean and the hot water’s run out, I take the clippers to my black curls. I can’t get the feeling of his hands scrubbed out of my hair. So it has to go. Will I regret this in a couple days? Probably. But right now I don’t care. I just want to be okay, and this will help.

I feel calmer once my head’s shaved. Less frantic. I also feel drained. Not like the sated, just-had-sex drained normal people have. This is the I’ve-been-panicking-and-now-it’s-over drained. I want to hibernate now. In a cocoon far away from people. Away from men.

I slather my face with a green mask in hopes it will help. The mask almost matches my eyes, which is sorta why I bought it.

I pull on plain gray pajama pants before digging out my sketchpad and pencils and the bottle of nail polish I keep in my nightstand. Drawing, doing my nails, and binging _Supernatural_ should help.

 

I’ve just painted my nails when Jake walks in. The sight of the glittery silver polish steadies me somewhat. It’s something pretty on my body, which feels so ugly and marred right now.

“You okay?” Jake asks worriedly.

“I slept with Matt.” I sigh heavily.

“Why’d you do _that_?”

“I’m asking myself the same thing. I wanted the bullying to stop.”

“Did he hurt you? Is that why you’re so upset?”

“No, no, he was…nice. I’m upset because I’m a freaking whore. Alright? That’s all I’ve ever been and all I’ll ever be and I was stupid for thinking I could be something else.” I flinch at the sound of my own raised voice. Jake’s face falls at my sharp tone. Great. I hurt his feelings. I’m just doing all kinds of wonderful tonight.

“I don’t think you’re a whore.” His voice comes out small. Like he thinks I’ll start yelling again.

“Can you stay with Seth? I’m not fit for human companionship right now.” If I’m alone, the only one in danger is myself. “I’m sorry.”

“Will you be okay?” The concern in his voice is almost painful for me.

Even after being out for two years, it still shocks me when guys are kind to me without expecting anything. It’s why what Matt did hurts so much. Why what I did hurts so much. I can’t blame him solely for this; it was my decision too.

I nod tiredly. Honestly, I’ll probably end up sleeping after he leaves.

“I’ll fix supper before I go.”

“I’m not hungry.”

I would rather be alone with my self-hatred than have Jake bear witness to this.

 

I dread seeing Matt in the morning. If I could call in, I would.

He and the other guys are laughing about something when I walk in. Tab smiles sympathetically. She looks furious.

“What’s wrong?” I ask her quietly, putting my apron on.

“Matt’s being a jerk.”

“So, when do Mika and I get a turn? Or Tab? Since you’re screwing coworkers apparently,” Caleb remarks. Matt’s wicked grin makes me want to punch him.

“You lied. You fucking lied to me! You told me—You son of a bitch.” My throat burns like I might start crying. That’s the last thing I need to do right now. Although, it’s better than punching him in the face.

“I said I’d quit,” Matt replies evenly.

“So, you got everyone else started? Seriously?”

“Everyone but Tab. Maybe she’s sweet on you or something.” He smirks evilly.

“Or maybe I’m a decent person,” Tab butts in. “You guys are assholes.”

I don’t walk out because I need this job. Because I can’t survive on my tips from waiting tables. Because I can’t push everything off on Jake. So I stay. Because what else can I do?

“Hey, you wanna come hang out? Decompress?” Tab asks as we leave.

“Doing what? You’re not gonna try to pimp me to your boyfriend or something, are you?” The guards have slipped back into place. They had to.

“Once a month, Teo and his crew get together and play games and have dinner. No sex. I promise. It’s not an orgy. We have an orgy-less relationship.” She grins at me in the semidarkness.

“Is there drinking?”

“Oh, no. Alcoholism runs in Teo’s family, so we don’t do alcohol. It’s safe for you. I promise. Anybody tries anything with you and we’ll put a stop to it.”  
  
I park on the curb in front of their white two-story house, so I can leave right away if it goes wrong. They have a very nice house, but it doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable. A green wreath with a giant red bow hangs on the forest green front door. Battery-powered candles set in the windows.

“I’ll be your bodyguard if you want,” Tab jokes, leading me up the green front steps.

“I might take you up on that.”

There’s maybe twenty people milling about, chatting and laughing. I know none of them. My fingers move to my necklace and toy with it nervously. I'm horrible at making friends. At socializing. I mean, the only reason I'm so talkative with Jake is because of my nerves; I either don’t shut up or I say nothing.

Jake wanders up to me the minute I walk in. He had been sitting on the couch. Alone.

“Hey, Jake. So, is the famous Seth here?” I say, smiling shyly. His cheeks flush and he drops his eyes to the side. He looks pretty uncomfortable now.

“Yeah, he’s here. Um, I’m Jake. Tab, right? You’re the only one here I haven’t met.”

“So, you’re Ransom’s roommate. I’ve heard a lot about you. Um, have you seen my boyfriend anywhere?” She fidgets with one of her narrow braids.

“He was in the kitchen with Seth. They’re cooking.”

“Alright, thanks.”

I touch her arm lightly as she starts to leave.

“Are you okay?” I whisper.

“I'm fine.” She smiles warmly. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Jake asks something I don’t catch.

“Do what? Sorry. I'm sorry about last night. And embarrassing you about Seth,” I murmur.

“I asked if you were okay. It’s okay. It’s not a big deal. I mean, I get it. You were really messed up last night.”

“I had a really bad day. I _yelled_ at you. I hate being yelled at. I hurt you. And it was a crappy thing to do.”

“You were yelling about what happened. Not at me. I wasn’t mad at you. I wasn’t expecting you to go off like that.”

“I don’t go off like that. I spent fourteen years getting the crap beat out of me. I know what anger does. So, I keep a really tight leash on what little temper I have.”

“They beat you?” He sounds shocked. Sometimes, I forget my childhood wasn’t normal.

“I have a lot of scars from it. And there’s random stuff I don’t like that doesn’t make sense. I was still an ass yesterday.”

“Ransom, stop apologizing. You weren’t abusing me. Everything’s fine. I'm not mad at you. You exploded. It’s not the end of the world because you reacted. You’re human.”

“Sorry. You and Tab are the only ones I know.” I follow him awkwardly to the couch.

“I don’t really know anyone either. Most of them smoke, so I haven’t really talked to them at work.”

“How’s, um, how’s therapy going?” I drum my fingers anxiously against my thigh.

“Um, it’s good. I guess. I didn’t realize how much crap I had to work through.”

He smiles when a redhaired guy with snakebites walks in. Jake looks insanely happy to see him.

“Hey, Seth. Ransom, this is Seth,” Jake grins. I’ve never seen him this happy.

“Hi. I promise I don’t bite.” Seth grins as he shakes my hand.

“Thanks for the slime.” I'm not sure what else to say. Thanks for watching Jake? Jake’s not two.

“No prob. Jake didn’t mention his roommate being so cute. And…emo?”

So Seth’s into guys. I thought I was the only one here. I mean, I know Matt’s into guys and Caleb and Mika, but, after today, I'm not really counting them as people. They’re going in the same pile my owners are in.

I must take too long to answer because Seth backtracks.

“Sorry. Not trying to be weird. Don’t punch me,” he says quickly.

“No, no, I just thought I was the only one here. You’re fine. I'm not emo, by the way.”

He starts laughing. Jake’s blue eyes sparkle with amusement but he doesn’t say anything.

“Trust me, you’re far from the only gay guy. So, goth?” Seth replies once he’s done laughing.

“Or the only bi one,” Jake butts in uncomfortably.

“I'm not bi,” I remind him.

“I am.” Jake stares at his lap. He looks like he can’t believe he just said that.

“Sorry for calling you straight,” Seth tells him.

“I did it too. Sorry,” I murmur.

I flinch when someone whistles loudly. It’s Tab.

“Food’s ready, guys,” she tells us.

I scan the buffet of food laid out in search of anything I can have.

“There’s no meat,” Tab whispers in my ear, startling me.

“Tab, you’re wearing heels and you’re as tall as I am. How are you so quiet? Thank you. I was starting to think I’d have to eat a napkin.” I start loading up on food, sliding the plate along the white granite island. I'm not asking for help. I don’t want help.

She grins and nudges my shoulder playfully in response.  
  
I join the black card table Jake and Seth are at after we eat. I know Jake at least. Seth seems nice enough. I sit in the chair closest to the door. Everyone seems closer right now, and I need an escape route.

Seth’s busy getting a couple games for us to play.

“So, um, did Matt keep his word?” Jake asks.

“Tab’s the only one not being shitty. I’ll tell you at home.”

“Okay. You’re doing it again. You know what we could do? Go out and do something. Not a date. Friend thing. That’s a thing, right?”

“There’s a lot of people. Definitely not a date. Maybe.”

“Are you two agreeing not to date or is it a date and you don’t wanna admit it?” Seth asks, placing a couple boxes on the table. Jake’s cheeks turn pink again.

“First one,” Jake mumbles.

“Did I interrupt something?” Seth sounds worried. I don’t miss the way he glances between Jake and I. Like he thinks something might be going on between us.

“No. Seriously. Jake and I aren’t dating,” I assure him quickly. Right now, I don’t want to think about dating. I don’t want to think about being with someone at all. I rub the back of my neck uncomfortably.

“Are you okay?” Jake asks.

“Not exactly. I'm sorry. I'm just—Yesterday screwed me up. He’s screwed me up. My taste in men sucks.”

“Yeah, don’t help me find someone.” Jake grins playfully as he nudges my good arm gently. I flinch back like he slapped me.

“Sorry. I'm weird about touch right now.” I feel stupid for flinching. It’s Jake. He’s harmless.

“You don’t owe me an apology.”

Playing Exploding Kittens with Jake and Seth helps. It gets me out of my head for a little bit. I don’t feel as much like garbage.  
  
Jake looks happier than I’ve ever seen him when we get home. It makes me happy. I know he might not stay this way, but, for now, it’s nice to see.

“I didn’t really plan on coming out. It just sorta…happened,” he tells me, flopping onto the couch.

“Do you feel better?”

“Do you? A little. I had a lot of fun. It’s been a long time since I hung out and played games with someone.”

“A little. Tab thought it would help.”

“I like Tab. She seems pretty cool. And I'm glad Mateo found someone like her.” He sighs softly. I might be wrong, but I think there’s a twinge of wistfulness in his voice.

“She’s even better when you get to know her. Were you and Mateo something more? I mean, it’s none of my business.”

“No, he just kept me from getting beat up and it made me fall for him. He’s thinking about proposing, y’know. I won’t go to the wedding if I get an invite. Can’t. Seeing him and her…I know you probably don’t get it. But it kills me. And it shouldn’t. I mean, that’s crappy, right? He’s happy. I should be happy. I'm not. I never had a chance. I know that. He’s not into guys. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t get drunk at the reception and try to seduce him. Seeing that, seeing them. It’d kill me, Ransom.”

“It’s not crappy. You love him and he picked someone else. I love Matt and he’s an asshole. I get it.”

“He was how I figured out I'm bi. I mean, I speculated, but he cemented it.”

“And Seth?” I notice the way he winces when I say Seth’s name.

“Is it that obvious?”

“I knew when he walked in. The way you looked at him, it’s like you’d never seen the sun before.”

“It scares me.”

“Because he might be a dick?”

“And he might not like me. I'm clueless when it comes to guys.” He rakes a hand through his hair. He looks so uncomfortable now; I wish I hadn’t brought it up.

“So am I.”

“What’re you gonna do about Matt?”

“I don’t know. I'm trying to get back everything I lost, and I thought I was doing pretty good  until Matt happened. I mean, I know there’s stuff I’ll never get back. My innocence for one. Memories. But I’d like to be able to get back everything I can. I can’t quit my job, Jake.”

“What’s staying going to do to you?”

And that’s the scary part. I wish I knew.


End file.
